


In Which It Was Pretty Much Bucky's Turn To Get Sick Anyway

by queerlyobscure (softestpunk)



Series: Kink Bingo Round Five [7]
Category: Captain America, Captain America (2011), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Enemas, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Medical Kink, Old-Fashioned Medicine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-31
Updated: 2012-08-31
Packaged: 2017-11-13 06:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/500434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softestpunk/pseuds/queerlyobscure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky gets treated to the benefit of Steve's extensive experience with colds when he catches one himself.</p><p>Completely unrepentant hurt/comfort friendshippy fic that you're welcome to read as shippy fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Which It Was Pretty Much Bucky's Turn To Get Sick Anyway

**Author's Note:**

> For the [kink_bingo](http://kink-bingo.dreamwidth.org/) square "enemas".

Steve unlocked the door to his and Bucky's apartment, trying to be as quiet as possible as he went inside. If Bucky was sleeping, he didn't want to wake him by accident; he'd get better a lot faster if he got plenty of rest.  
  
"Steve?" Bucky's voice rang out from the couch, saving Steve from worrying further about waking him. He was huddled under a pile of blankets - every one he owned, by the looks of it - and looking as miserable as he sounded.  
  
"Yeah, just me." Steve went to kneel beside him. "How're you feeling?"  
  
"Ugh." Bucky sniffed. "Like I got trampled by a herd of elephants and then thrown in the river?"  
  
Steve frowned at the sheen of sweat on Bucky's forehead. "You don't look too hot," he agreed.  
  
"Funny, 'cause I feel too hot." Bucky managed a weak smile. "And too cold." He shivered as if to make the point.  
  
"Well, I'm here to look after you now. Got supplies and everything." He held up the bag he was carrying.   
  
"You shouldn't stay. You'll be a lot worse than me if you catch my cold."  
  
Steve shrugged. "Then I won't catch it. And besides, if I do, you'll be cured by then and you can look after me."  
  
Bucky opened his mouth to protest,  but thought better of it. Steve wouldn't be stopped from helping out a sick friend, whatever the risk. "Yeah, I will. So, you got a miracle cure in your bag of tricks?"  
  
"Not exactly, but I've got some things that might help. Stuff mom used to do for me."  
  
"Then I'll put myself in your capable hands. Not that I could fight you off right now, even if I wanted to."  
  
"But you wouldn't want to, right?"  
  
Bucky smiled and shifted under his covers. "Nah. I was gettin' bored all by myself. 'sides, how could I refuse such a pretty nursemaid?"  
  
"You call me pretty again and I'll steal all your blankets while you're sleeping." Steve pointed a warning finger at Bucky, but couldn't help smiling at him. At least he was feeling well enough to tease. "Okay, tell me the worst of it and we'll see what we can do."   
  
"Tired. Headache. Sore gut." Bucky sighed. "Falling apart."  
  
"Nothing we can't handle. We'll take care of the second two, and then you can sleep. Sound good?"  
  
"Sounds good." Bucky nodded. "What do we do?"  
  
"Well, when I was a kid and running a fever, mom used to give me an enema. I know it sounds kinda..." Steve wrinkled his nose, looking for a word that wouldn't scare Bucky off. "Unpleasant, but it's really not that bad and you'll feel a whole lot better after."  
  
Bucky was quiet for a few moments, rubbing his stomach unconsciously. "I trust you." He nodded after a while. "If you think it'll help, I'll try it. But if this is an excuse to get me to bare my ass, I'll get you back."  
  
"Why would I deliberately subject myself to that if I didn't have to?" Steve poked Bucky's knee before standing up. "Take your slacks off and lie face down; I'm gonna heat some water. Don't fall asleep on me."  
  
"Easy for you to say," Bucky called after Steve as he followed his instructions. "Nobody's about to stick anything in you."  
  
"You're not  nervous , are you Bucky?" Steve leaned around the door frame to grin at him.   
  
"No!" Bucky defended. "Just... yeah, okay,  _maybe_ , but can you blame me?"  
  
"I thought you trusted me?"  
  
"I do, but... okay, I'm a coward and I need you to go easy on me." Bucky folded his pants and set them aside. "But I'm sick, so you have to be nice to me anyway."  
  
"Or I could take this opportunity to torture you and you wouldn't be able to stop me."   
  
"I'd get you back, though, and you're way too nice to take advantage of a sick person."  
  
Steve returned with his supplies just as Bucky was lying back down.   
  
"Nice butt," Steve teased as he settled himself over Bucky's legs, puzzling out how he was going to arrange himself before figuring out something that worked, kneeling with one leg between Bucky's and the other braced against the back of the couch.  
  
"This is not helping my confidence in-" Bucky cut himself off. "Warn a guy!"  
  
Steve paused for a moment, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs on Bucky's lower back to give him a second to recover. "You would have tensed up if I'd warned you. Still okay?"  
  
"Yeah, still okay." Bucky took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You're right, it's not so bad."  
  
"We haven't started yet. You'll know when we do. Lift up onto your knees a little bit, so you're not really lying on your stomach."  
  
Bucky followed Steve's instructions gingerly, head spinning as the blood rushed to it. He gasped and fought not to tense too hard as he saw exactly what Steve had meant about knowing when they'd started, but relaxed again after a moment. The water was warm, but not too hot; just a little more than blood temperature. Bucky closed his eyes against the dizziness and concentrated on the odd, but not actually unpleasant sensation of starting to fill up. He groaned lowly as he felt his insides gurgle and shift, and that was enough to make Steve pause.  
  
"Too much?" He could hear Steve shifting behind him, concern clear in his voice.  
  
"Depends on how long you want me to hold it. How much more have you got?"  
  
"Maybe half a quart. Think you can handle it?"  
  
"That sounded like a challenge." Bucky craned his neck to look back at Steve, but gave up when it made his head spin again.  
  
"It was. Man enough?"  
  
Bucky nodded. He might be sick, but he wasn't about to be defeated by half a quart of warm water. "I can handle it."  
  
"Course you can."   
  
Wincing as he felt a new rush of water, Bucky gritted his teeth and waited until Steve was done. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt the tip of the tube coming out, but instantly realised that it was a mixed blessing as the weight of the water inside him pressed down.  
  
"Hold it," Steve warned. "Or it won't help any. Lie down on your side."  
  
With a nod meant more to reassure himself than Steve, Bucky moved to lie on his side as instructed. The fullness in his stomach was wavering between uncomfortable and almost comforting, kind of like an internal hot water bottle. When Steve moved to arrange him so Bucky could lie with his head in his lap and started stroking his hair, he thought he might even fall asleep, headache easing at Steve's gentle touch.  
  
That was until the first cramp made him jump, a tiny involuntary noise of pain escaping him before he could stop it. Bucky expected laughter, but Steve only shushed him and kept stroking his hair. He wasn't sure if he should be comforted or worried about that.  
  
"Get up when you need to, but if you hang on until you really can't take it any more, it'll work better. The longer you can hold it, the better you'll feel after."  
  
"Speaks the voice of experience?" Bucky leaned into the gentle stroking. It was nice to be looked after.  
  
"Guess so. Imagine this three or four times every winter."  
  
"I'll look after you when it's you. Promise." Bucky closed his eyes.   
  
"Of course you will. You always do." Steve smiled down at him, curling Bucky's hair around his fingers.  
  
"Steve?" Bucky spoke up after a few more minutes.  
  
"Hmm? Yeah?"  
  
"I need to go," Bucky whispered pitifully.  
  
"I'm not carrying you."  
  
"No, but I'm not sure I can stand without... you know." With a concerned little frown, Bucky looked down at his slightly swollen stomach and placed a hand on it.  
  
"Letting go? You'll be fine, don't worry. But go now." Steve took his hands away from Bucky's hair to let him stand. "Take your time. I'll fill a hot water bottle for you."  
  
Bucky nodded, groaning softly as he stood and trying to put as little pressure on his stomach as possible as he stumbled towards the bathroom.  
  
When he came back ten minutes later and feeling ten pounds lighter, Steve was ready with a bottle wrapped in a towel, and helped him lie back down on the couch and put his pants back on before handing it to him. Bucky clutched it to his chest, sure he could feel the warmth easing the tightness there.   
  
"I feel so much better," Bucky sighed into his pillow as Steve rearranged the blankets he'd moved earlier over the top of him. "Thanks."  
  
"No problem." Steve smiled at him with only the faintest hint of I-told-you-so showing through. "Get some sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up."  
  
Bucky hummed and snuggled under the blankets. "Yeah. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine."  
  
Just as he was letting go of the last threads of consciousness, Bucky heard Steve speaking up once more, so softly he was sure he wasn't meant to hear it.  
  
"As if I'd ever not worry about you."


End file.
